Morning
by Felandris09
Summary: Trevelyan watches Cullen shave. - NSFW. One-shot set after Diplomatic Ties. - Like, yeah? Leave a comment? Cause gratitude.


Trevelyan is dumbstruck. She knew she was going to intrude, but she didn't expect this- or to be so utterly astounded by it.

Standing in front of the plain wall mirror in their bath chamber, soapy suds on his face and blade in hand, is Cullen.

Shaving.

And she's behind him, frozen into place. She doesn't even remember why she came in here in the first place-_ Was it to get something?_ It doesn't matter now as she's too busy ogling him.

It's not until she hears his voice that she realizes the blade has stopped moving, and he's giving her a quizzical look in the mirror.

"What are you doing in here? Is everything all right?"

"I-I… I think I was…" In a most ironic reversal of roles, Trevelyan finds herself rubbing the back of her neck as she scrambles for words. Taking a deep, calming breath, she continues and is surprised at her own response. "Mind if I watch?"

"Watch? While I shave?" he repeats incredulously. It would be his turn to rub his neck if he wasn't holding a sharp knife. "Sure, I don't mind", he says eventually. "It's just… unexpected, I guess."

Smiling sheepishly, she offers, "I'm just intrigued. I've never seen a man shave." She is indeed. The notion of male vanity, of her battle-hardened commander tending to his own beauty, is oddly fascinating.

He nods and continues his routine, looking in at her in mild confusion for another second before returning his attention to his face. There is a quiet grace to his precise movements as the dangerously sharp blade moves over his delicate skin. Having finished on his left cheek, he dips the knife into a bowl of water sitting on the wooden counter in front of him. Lifting his chin up slightly, he starts on the other side, which is still covered in creamy white foam. He carefully runs the knife downwards, then sideways, removing the frothy lather in the process. As he is working away, her eyes start roaming across his body.

There is just enough light coming in through the colourfully mottled window to draw playful patterns on his torso, highlighting the hard muscles under his sallow skin. War may be over, but that doesn't mean he gives himself any more rest. Once he's finished here he'll join his troops for the early training session, further sculpting the masterpiece that his body already is.

Wide shoulders and muscular arms frame his powerful upper body. The morning sun gives a golden hue to the fine dusting of hair across his broad chest. Tiny droplets of water are falling from his curly locks that he hasn't yet styled. One drop is sitting on his right nipple, daring her to lick it off the dark pink bud.

There is a thin trail of water running down his back as well, and her gaze follows it along his spine. His light sleep pants are sitting low on his slim hips, revealing the swell of those impossibly pert buttocks. She remembers her almost bashful surprise when she found out he only wears smalls under his day clothes.

He is _gorgeous_, the Maker's vision of a man. And he is hers, hers alone. The thought fills her chest with pride- and her groin with an only-too familiar warmth. She stifles a groan at the thought of running her fingers over those tight abs, or of dipping her tongue into that inviting belly button.

Taking a step towards him, she catches his eye as she begins to unbutton her shirt- his shirt, tattered old thing that she insists on sleeping in. The blade stops again and his mouth drops open. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows before speaking. "I-I'm not finished…"

She cocks an eyebrow as she unfastens the last button. "Don't stop on my account."

Starting from behind her neck, she slowly lets her hands travel down her body. They glide over her collarbone, then down her chest. Her palms cup her breasts, lifting them slightly as if to test their weight. When her thumbs begin to circle her nipples, Cullen flinches.

He has been watching her movements, but now he appears to have summoned up enough discipline to carry on shaving. Cleaning his blade once more, he continues on his right cheek, then his chin.

With the shirt still on her, Trevelyan runs her hands further down her body until they reach her smallclothes. Spreading her legs slightly, she pushes them down and lets them fall to the ground. She has his attention once more. Her lips curve into a small, devious smile as she notices the beginnings of a bulge forming inside his trousers.

Closing the distance between them, she hugs him from behind. Wanton heat surges through her body as her first her nipples, then her dark curls brush against his warm skin before her arms close around him.

Sighing in faltering determination, Cullen once again tries to focus on his face. He only has his upper lip left to shave. As he guides the blade over that most sensitive patch of skin, his enlarged pupils and the heavy rise and fall of his chest betray him. Trevelyan is merciless, scraping her nails across that delectably taut stomach before she pinches a nipple. Somehow he manages to finish the job and washes the knife one last time while she's pressing her exposed pelvis into his bottom.

Having finished shaving, he cups his hands together and dips them into a second bowl of water, which he then splashes over his face, washing off any remaining suds. He pats himself dry with a small towel, just as he notices a hand sneaking down the front of his pants.

Looking back at Trevelyan in the mirror, that lopsided grin of his begins to form on his face as his hands dive into the bowl once more. She has just enough time to notice the change in his expression before he spins around in her embrace and splashes freezing cold water all over her face and chest.

Trevelyan's shriek is surprise, laughter and excitement all at once and turns into a giggle as he lifts her up into his arms. Her hands find his shoulders and her legs wrap around his waist in a natural fit.

His lips are on hers before he even gets moving, and she feels more than hears the door being all but kicked open. He twirls them around the bedroom, floating through pools of sunlight in a giddy dance of playful lust. Eventually they stumble onto the bed, falling into each other, and she's under him, squirming excitedly.

Her shirt is gone, and she welcomes the heat of his skin on hers as they go at each other, grinding, groping, tongues lapping at each other. Though she started this, Cullen is very much taking the lead now. Pinning her arms above her head, he looks at her, pupils dilated with desire, before claiming her mouth in another deep, fiery kiss.

Sighing happily, she relaxes into the soft pillows and lets him have his way with her. Goosebumps form on her arms as his lips travel down the curve of her neck, peppering the lightest of kisses on her skin. Fingertips brush across her ribcage, tickling and enticing all at the same time. When the tip of his tongue teases her nipple, still stiff from the icy water, she moans, pressing up against him so he can feel her damp arousal.

Another, louder moan as he begins suckling at her breast, making her core quiver in anticipation. She wants him, needs him, cannot fathom how she went for so long without him in her life. She whimpers as he stops, opens her eyes to look at him. Gasps at the sight of him.

Brilliant rays of sunshine catch in his soft hair as he is straddling her in all of his glorious, naked beauty. She can't remember when the pants came off- all she knows is that his stiff length is proudly standing up against his stomach, and she is aching for him. Needs him like air to breathe.

He's not giving her what she wants just yet, though. Shifting on the bed to get better access, he keeps eye contact as he gradually inserts his index finger into her opening, eliciting a sharp hiss from her. Smirking, he allows it to sink deep into her then curls it. He repeats the motion three, four times until she is writhing against him. Then she winces as he withdraws his finger from her.

It comes out glistening, light reflecting against the clear moisture.

"You are soaking wet", he assesses matter-of-factly. Being commander of an army of hundreds, he knows_ to_ inspire, empower, intimidate and tantalize using just his voice. And he knows how to use that voice on her, lets the inflections travel from a friendly, light-hearted tone to a dark, almost threatening timbre in the space of just a few syllables. Right now, he's all detached, almost professional, as if discussing troop movements. It drives her crazy with lust, and he knows it.

"I could just go ahead and have my way with you, you know. Flip you over, stick my cock in you. Fuck you for as long as I please." He watches her reaction before he continues. "On the other hand…"

He allows his voice to trail off as he brings the finger towards his mouth. Holding her stare, he licks it lasciviously then closes his lips around the tip, his eyes falling closed. He hums in satisfaction as he thoroughly savours her arousal. Then the digit pops out of his mouth with a wet noise, and her insides twitch.

Mock curiosity and a higher pitch to his voice now as he arches an eyebrow like he's just had an idea. "On the other hand, I might just eat you out instead."

And with that his head is between her legs, and he attacks without warning. Broad hands lift her hips, perfectly smooth cheeks brush against the insides of her thighs, and all air leaves her lungs in a shocked gasp as his tongue dives right into her.

She can feel him grinning against her as he starts dipping in and out of her most intimate place, exploring her with his tongue while his nose just so happens to brush against her pearl. She is panting, lips frozen into a silent cry, trying hard not to push up into his face as he is unleashing the most wickedly delightful sensations upon her.

He takes equal amounts of pleasure and pride in doing this to her, and her groans and squeals are complemented by his hums and chuckles. He is watching her from between her legs, reading her body like a book. Whenever she is close, he doesn't quite stop but begins to kiss the outside of her labia, the apex of her thighs instead, allowing her to slide back down from her peak. He repeats the sweet torture until she is breathless, desperate.

Taking mercy on her, he licks her once more, all the way from her perineum to the top of her fleshy folds before he descends on that little bundle of flesh.

He gently nurses the engorged nub, working her back up towards completion. He can tell she is close again when her buttocks tighten in his hands. This time he sticks his tongue out wide and laps at the swollen button, once, twice, and there it is.

The teasing warmth of her peak first tickles her just below where is tongue is working, then spills over into her core, then her abdomen before it grips her entire body like a vice.

Trevelyan's back arches off the bed, her toes curl and she lets out long moan, low and primal.

Cullen keeps his hold on her as she's coming undone, just lightly lapping at her now, licking her clean until she's stopped shaking.

For his return path he follows a different trail every time- whether it's via her moles, across her hard bones or the soft, ticklish areas. Today it's her scars that he kisses one by one on his way back up. Tiny pecks flutter above her left hipbone, under her ribs, beside her collarbone, and then he's looking up at her flushed face, all of his love condensed into one smile.

This is almost her favourite part. She leans towards him in greedy anticipation as his lips graze hers ever so lightly. When he cups her jaw and opens her mouth with his tongue, she sighs into him as she's being fed her own nectar. Her hands grasp his hair, legs clamp onto his waist, and the brush of his hardness against her stomach incites her barely subsided lust again. They grab and tug at one another as their tongues duel, frantic fingers feverishly trying to touch as much flesh as possible. When they break the kiss, they're both gasping for air, and he brushes his thumb over her bottom lip, as has become his habit. Then he moves quickly, unable to wait any longer.

Sitting back on his knees, he slides his arms under her back to pull her hips flush against him. He then grasps one of her alabaster thighs in each of his large palms, lifting her calves over his shoulders so that her legs frame his face. Her eyes widen, and she unconsciously licks her lips at the prospect of how he is going to take her.

Looking at her through heavy lids, he drinks her in with his eyes. He takes his thick shaft in his hand, giving himself a few slow, thorough strokes. Velvet skin glides over iron-hard flesh as he's showing off what he's got for her. A little mewl escapes her- Maker, is she _ready_ for him. He smirks before finally positioning himself. Holding on to her hips, he begins to push into her, slowly, _slowly_, inch by delicious inch. She is slick still –_or again?_\- so it's a smooth, sensual slide. She shudders as he enters her, and when he is fully sheathed, her fingers twist into the silken sheets around her, and her gaze begs him to start moving already.

He obliges, flexing his buttocks and withdrawing leisurely, only to slip back into her slick heat at just the same agonizing pace. They both groan. He is almost unbearably deep inside her now, the tip of him just about brushing against her cervix, and she is completely at his mercy. There is no place she'd rather be right now.

Another slow stroke, and another, and his speed begins to pick up along with his breathing. He catches her eye again, not speaking until he is certain to have her full attention.

"Touch yourself. I want to watch you like you were watching me." The commander dominates his voice now, the harsh edge in his baritone accepting nothing but obedience.

Sighing, she lets her hand wander to where her hips are raised up in the air, where he's plunging in andout of her. Their joining has her spread open, her folds parted, so all she needs to do is circle her index finger around the once again swollen nub at the top, eliciting a moan from both of them.

She settles into a rhythm of slow, tight rubs and succumbs to the plethora of sensations invading her body- Cullen's hands gripping the flesh of her hips, his heavy scrotum slapping against her bottom, the painfully sweet sensations around her pearl, and of course those deep, heavenly thrusts. She can feel the tension spiralling up from deep in her womb, and her pelvis rises all on its own accord. Every exhale is now a strangled whimper, a sharp hiss, a lustful little yelp.

Cullen is forcing out a laboured breath with every stroke, his face a strained grimace of barely-maintained control, amber eyes dark with lust but still focused on her. "Is that what you used to do when you were away on missions? Thinking about my cock inside of you?" His voice is strained. He is close. "Yes", she manages. _He couldn't even imagine how often._ "Look at it now", he orders, motioning at where he's now pounding into her.

She lowers her gaze to see flesh surrounding flesh, his length disappearing into her, making wet, slurping sounds, emerging only to be swallowed up by her body again.

The lewd visual and his sultry words, his husky voice bring her closer, and she feels herself beginning to wind up tightly.

Then he leans forward, changing the angle so that the bulbous head of him now brushes past that softest of places inside of her, and it's from there that climax grips her. Her whole body stiffens, her eyes fall shut and she bucks into him as she cries out a loud, desperately distorted version of his name. Her insides grip him so tightly that she takes him right over the edge with her. He falls forward, catching himself on his forearms, shuddering as he surrenders himself to mind-shattering, unadulterated pleasure, filling her with hot streaks of his seed.

For a moment the lovers seem afloat on the blissful waves of their high. Then tremors become shivers and sharp pants lengthen into deep sighs as their heartbeats slow down and they reach for each other. Sluggishly sated, Cullen plops down beside his woman, and she briefly bemoans the loss of him before he wraps his arms around her. Warm sunlight kisses their bodies as they snuggle up under the covers, enjoying a moment of blissful quiet before their duties call upon them.

Then those soft lips are on the back of her neck and his broad hands are drawing circles on her belly before settling over her womb, which makes her smile every time.

She can feel him grin now, too, and turns her head towards him.

"You were quite loud there, you know", he says, amusement playing around the edge of his voice. "All of Skyhold might as well have heard you."

She raises an eyebrow in pretend confusion. "And would that present a problem to you, Commander?"

He pulls her to turn over and face him, still smiling warmly. "Not at all, my love", he kisses her gently, "not at all."

She is first to break the kiss, moving to get out of his embrace, but he won't let her. "Did I say I was done with you, Inquisitor?"

"But your troops-"

"They'll wait." As she starts giggling, he flips her over onto her back, moving on top of her to ravish her body once more.

This time they do hear her all over Skyhold.


End file.
